Stolen shades
by cheezypoofalbino
Summary: Bro decides that Dave can last a day without his shades. Dave's fine until he remembers that John is coming over. JohnDave fluff.


Dave awoke with a start. He blinked groggily a few times, trying to get his eyes to adapt to the bright room. Why was it so bright?

A bright room?

"Oh god." He frantically groped around his sheets. "Oh god. Oh god, where are my shades?" He finally pulled all of the blankets off of his bed, revealing a bare sheeted mattress covered with puppets. "Where could they b-"

"Hey little dude! Looking for your shades?" A man leaned against the doorframe. His black baseball hat was accentuated by his strange gloves; and from Dave's brother's gloved fingertips dangled a pair of black sunglasses.

"Bro, gimme my shades back." Dave reached for the shades, but Bro just stepped away and held them higher, over Dave's head. Infuriating.

"Sorry Dave, but I've been called into the office. I'll be back around 10, okay?" Bro smirked. Dave jumped for the precious shades again, but to no avail.

"C'mon Bro, John's coming today! Give my shades back!" Dave tried to fake around him. Dave fell.

"Bye! Have fun with John!" Bro closed the apartment door. He would be back, right? He wouldn't actually take Dave's shades.

He would.

Dave looked out the window facing the street. Inside a cab, Bro waved. Dave scowled. His eyes seemed heavy looking out at the foggy city morning.

* * *

John was definitely not a city person. He liked living in the suburbs, where you could have a tire swing and walk to a nice park filled with nice people. In the city, there were no tire swings. There weren't even lawns. Not to mention the people in cities being so rude and mean in general. There were a few exceptions though; Dave and Bro, for example. He smiled as he walked along the sidewalk.

* * *

Dave rushed around the cluttered apartment, throwing puppets and clothes and wrappers into any closet he could find. Where's the Windex? Can you clean things other than windows with Windex? Maybe I should take a break. I've cleaned enough.

Dave looked out of the window, just to check if John was there. But he wouldn't be at the apartment yet, he said the plane was delayed. Right? He chanced a glimpse out of the window. Sharply recoiling and then messing up his hair to cover his eyes, Dave smiled at none other than John Egbert.

* * *

John looked down at the crumpled paper in his hands, taking off his square glasses. Dave had told him that he was well off, but these apartments were for more than the well off! Maybe he had the wrong address. He looked back up at the huge apartments, hoping for a glimpse of his friend. Seeing a blurry figure running around the penthouse apartment, he put his glasses back on. Yeah, the figure was definitely Dave. Shirtless Dave with messy bedhead hair. A glance at his watch told John that it was nearly noon. He must've stayed up late. Looking back up at the window, he managed to catch Dave's eye, smiling and waving. After jumping back a bit, Dave smirked back. What a dork.

* * *

Dave turned away from the window, shaking his head. It's just John. He wouldn't mind. But what if he did? A little voice inside of his head taunted him. Freak. You'll have to live with those sunglasses forever. Dave sighed. The voice was right, of course, but that didn't change the fact that he hated the shades. They hid his eyes from the rest of the world, and that was enough to upset Dave, even if only slightly.

He took a deep breath, pulling his hair back from his face. John would be in the apartment soon. Probably a minute at the very least. What could he do at this point? John would freak out if he saw Dave's eyes. Maybe Bro had some extra shades.

Dave frantically went through Bro's bathroom drawers. Pills, comb, toothpaste, puppet, and there they were.

A pink contact case next to false eyelashes and lipstick. Dave grabbed all three, just in case. He rushed back to his bedroom, where a mirror sat on top of a dresser. Dave opened the contact case, expecting for large things you could put on top of your eye. He stared blankly at the thin, flexible lense. He wasn't even sure if these could go into his eyes. He didn't have a chance to find out, however, as a knock sounded at his door.

* * *

John knocked quietly, not wanting to disturb Dave. Maybe he was getting ready. Did Dave wear makeup? He did always look perfect. Oh god. Did he really just think that? What if he said it out loud? What if Dave heard? John knocked again, this time a bit harder. "Dave?" No answer. "Dave, are you there?" John asked hesitantly, not wanting to knock again for fear of disturbing the neighbors.  
"Yeah, just give me one second." Relieved, John let out a breath he hadn't realized that he had been holding.

"Sure," said John, "Take your time, okay?" There was no answer again, but at least John knew Dave wasn't lying dead in his apartment or something.

John was about to open the door, but before he could reach the doorbell, the door swung open with Dave on the other side.

* * *

Just-gotten-out-of-bed hair was covering his eyes, and Dave was very, very nervous. He stood awkwardly between John and the apartment, the two staring at each other.

"...Dave?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you see?"

"Sure I can."

John laughed, and Dave relaxed a bit. Until John reached up and brushed Dave's hair out of his eyes.

"Wait, no, don't do tha-" Dave pushed John away as soon as he had moved his hair away, but it was too late. The damage had been done.

* * *

John peered up at Dave's bright red irises in surprise. "Woah," he stated,"Your eyes are really red, huh?" Dave blinked a few times, as surprised as John.

"You're not freaked out?"

"No…"

"Like, not at all?"

"Nope."

Dave's head was reeling. He was a freak. A freak with creepy red eyes. And John didn't care? Dave figured the best way to express his feelings would be to hug it out.

"Dave, my ribcage sort of hurts."

"Sorry." John was let go of, the boy laughing and adjusting his glasses. Dave was decidedly pink in the cheeks.

* * *

John and Dave laid on the roof. With a Pepsi and a pot of ramen between them, it was pretty much perfect.

"I think that one could be Orion… or maybe it's Cancer." John pointed vaguely to some group of stars. Dave smirked.

"Not too great with stars, huh?" He moved John's hand towards the right. "That one's Cancer." His hand dropped.

"Don't you know any more?"

"Nope."

The two just laid on top of the roof for a bit. The fog had subsided around noon, leaving the air crisp and pleasant.

"What's your favorite color?" John inquired. Dave was surprised by the question.

"Blue. What about you?" John looked back at the sky.

"Red. I love red."


End file.
